


Crisis

by mithrel



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Blanket Permission, Gen, Podfic Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-24
Updated: 2009-06-24
Packaged: 2017-10-27 13:56:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/296584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mithrel/pseuds/mithrel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur finds out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crisis

**Author's Note:**

> My first Merlin fic!

Merlin sat his saddle uneasily, and concentrated on keeping his horse from bolting. For all that he’d been raised in the country, he’d never learned to ride. Only the nobility had the leisure to go riding, and only the nobility could afford riding horses. The two horses they’d had at home had pulled the plough, and had been ungainly things, not like the palfrey he rode now.

Between his innate clumsiness, and inexperience riding, it had taken him a while to be able to even look up while doing it. Now he was slightly more comfortable, but he’d never ridden at night.

Arthur had taken it into his head to go riding, but since there was a delegation from Mercia visiting Camelot, his presence was required at all times. So he’d ordered Merlin to wait until nightfall, and then they’d gone to the stables and saddled their horses.

Merlin flushed angrily, thinking about it. He’d attempted to saddle Arthur’s horse, but he’d pushed him away, (“Not that way, idiot! Tighten the girths!”) and done it himself.

When he saw him fumbling with his own horse’s bridle, a strange look had come over his face, something between exasperated amusement and…he wasn’t sure what else. Fondness, possibly. But it was gone almost the moment he’d seen it, and he would have thought he’d imagined it if Arthur hadn’t come over and showed him how to do it properly… _again_.

They’d sneaked out the tiny postern-gate, and were now riding in the forest. The moon was nearly full, giving plenty of light, even though wispy clouds scudded across it like some sort of ghoulish festoons.

 _You’re a warlock!_ he told himself sternly. _You shouldn’t be afraid of the dark!_ But that wasn’t true. Most people would dismiss the thought of faeries and goblins, but he knew the kind of things that could be lurking in the dark.

He looked over at Arthur, riding blithely along the road slightly ahead of him.

“Well, come on!” he said, laughing, and spurred his horse into a gallop.

Merlin gaped at him. _He’s mad! He can’t see; he’ll break his neck!_ He debated galloping after him, but Arthur pulled up about a hundred feet down the road. “You really aren’t a horseman, are you?” he called.

“No, I’m not. Can we go back now? I can’t see where I’m going.”

“Not yet. We’ve hardly been out.”

Merlin sighed, and urged his horse to follow him.

It really was a beautiful night. The clouds had blown away, and the sky was clear, the moon eclipsing the light of the stars. Crickets chirped in the grass, and birds muttered sleepily as they passed.

Suddenly Arthur’s horse neighed in panic.

Merlin looked over, to see Arthur on the ground, his horse nowhere in sight, wrestling with a cloaked figure. The figure had him pinned; he wasn’t able to get his sword out.

A dagger caught the light as the man raised it. Arthur grabbed his arm, but the dagger came slowly closer to his throat. He was going to kill him! Merlin was torn. This wasn’t like the other times he’d saved him with magic. He couldn’t do anything, Arthur would see. He’d be executed. But if he didn’t, Arthur would die… He’d already acted before these thoughts crossed his mind. Arthur was in danger. There was no choice. There was no thought.

As the figure knocked Arthur’s hands away from the dagger, he raised his hand. “ _Hweorfan!_ ”

A wave of force swept from him, and the figure flew through the air and impacted with a fir with a wet _crunch_.

Merlin dismounted, heedless of his horse, which bolted, and ran to Arthur.

He had expected disgust, revulsion. What he saw was worse.

Fear.

He stopped.

“Arthur…”

“I need to find the horses,” he said, scrambling up and running into the trees.

Feeling sick, Merlin went to where the assassin was crumpled against the tree.

He was definitely dead. People’s necks shouldn’t bend like that.

Merlin found himself retching. This wasn’t the first time he’d killed with magic, and this time it hadn’t been deliberate. But it never got any easier. He’d felt filthy for a week, the first time, even though if he hadn’t done it Arthur would be dead. Each time, he stopped using magic for awhile.

Until it became necessary once more.

But even magic couldn’t save him now. Arthur had seen. He knew. There would be no ducking out of it this time. And Uther was adamant about executing sorcerers, whether or not they had actually done him any harm. Arthur himself had made comments that made it clear how he felt about sorcery, for all that he’d occasionally tried to defend those unjustly accused.

Arthur would find the horses, and they would ride back to Camelot. Then he would inform his father, and Merlin would be dead before the week was out.

“I found the horses.”

He turned. Arthur was standing near the road, holding their horses’ reins in one hand. His face gave nothing away.

Merlin’s hand brushed his as he took the reins, and Arthur flinched back, before mastering himself. “Come on,” he said, mounting up. Merlin managed to climb onto his horse, and made the journey back without being conscious of anything around him.

***

He tried to sneak in without waking Gaius, but the physician was still awake.

“Where have you been?”

“Nowhere!” he said guiltily.

“You’re a very bad liar, Merlin.”

He sighed. “Arthur wanted to go riding.”

Gaius raised an eyebrow. “At night?”

“With the nobles from Mercia at court, he hasn’t had a chance to get away.”

Gaius nodded. “Is anything wrong? You look upset.”

“What? No, nothing’s wrong.”

He expected Gaius to call him out again, but he only smiled and said, “Get some sleep. You need to be up early tomorrow.”

***

He walked into Arthur’s chambers expecting to see the guards, but Arthur was alone.

“Well, come on, I need to dress for court!”

“Yes, sire,” he replied meekly, earning a look of surprise from Arthur.

He took twice as long to do it as usual, because he kept fumbling with the ties.

“Idiot,” Arthur muttered. Merlin didn’t reply. Arthur was tense—standing perfectly still, every muscle rigid, as if he was going through an endurance trial. _I suppose he can’t bear to have a sorcerer so near him._ Merlin thought bitterly.

Merlin wondered if he should say something, but couldn’t think how to begin.

He expected Arthur to tell Uther as soon as he saw him, and spent the day looking over his shoulder.

But nothing happened. _Maybe he doesn’t want to bring it up while the delegation from Mercia is here._

***

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine, Gaius.”

“Nothing’s happened, has it?”

He smiled sadly. “No, I’m fine.” He didn’t want to worry him. He knew Gaius would miss him when he was gone. He wondered if Arthur would.

***

Two days later, the delegation had left, and Merlin was sure he was doomed.

He opened the door to Arthur’s chambers, and found him reading. “Ah, Merlin. I want you to go down to the armoury; make sure my armour is cleaned and mended. Then muck out the stables.”

“Yes, sire.”

This was it. He’d been sent to do something long and involved outside Arthur’s chambers. He’d have plenty of time to tell Uther.

As Merlin polished Arthur’s breastplate, he thought back to that night. _If I could do it again, would I do any different? No, if I had, Arthur would be dead, and I’d probably be executed for not helping him, even though there shouldn’t be anything I could have done._

He polished the armour carefully. The guards ignored him, but he kept expecting to feel a heavy hand on his shoulder, and be dragged to the dungeons.

He almost managed to forget what had happened during the backbreaking (not to mention smelly) work of mucking out the stables. When he finished, he went back to Arthur’s chambers.

“Is there anything else you need me for, my lord?”

“What? Oh, no, Merlin, you can go.”

For the rest of the week, Arthur thought up errands that kept Merlin away from him. He wasn’t surprised, although he was hurt. On the other hand, he was still alive, and he didn’t know why. As the things he was ordered to do became more and more farfetched, he realised that Arthur really didn’t want him around, and wondered why he hadn’t just told Uther and got rid of him for good.

He finally couldn’t take the strain anymore.

He stormed into Arthur’s room. Arthur looked up, surprised.

“You really are a sadist, you know that?”

“What?” Arthur looked genuinely baffled.

“You’ve been enjoying watching me squirm, admit it! Or maybe you’re going to blackmail me!” _I just accused the Prince of wanting to blackmail me. I must be mad._

“Merlin, what in God’s name are you talking about?”

“ _Why haven’t you told your father?!_ ”

“About what?”

Merlin wondered if he would be any worse off if he strangled Arthur. “The…the forest.”

“Oh, that.”

“Yes, _that!_ I’d like to at least know how long I have before they cut off my head.”

“Merlin,” and Arthur’s voice was fond, a small smile on his face. “I’m not going to tell my father.”

Merlin’s knees gave out, and he sagged down into a nearby chair. “You…you’re not?”

“No.”

“ _Why?!_ ”

“I should think you’d be happy,” Arthur said, his eyes flashing. “I’m going to keep your secret.”

“Yes, yes, of course I am, but…I’m a _sorcerer!_ It’s against the law of the land to practise magic!”

“Have you ever harmed the Kingdom?”

“Well, no.”

“Or the King?”

“No,” Merlin replied, wondering where this was going.

“Have you ever harmed me?”

“Of course not!” he burst out hotly. “I wouldn’t!”

Arthur nodded. “I know that. And, far from harming me, have you not actually saved my life several times?”

“Well, yes, but…”

“Merlin. I’ve opposed my father executing innocents, for all the good it’s done. You know that. You’d never hurt anyone—not deliberately, not unless it was in self-defence or defending someone else. So why should I hand you over to him?”

“You…you’re really not going to tell him?” Merlin asked, beginning to hope.

“I’ve said so, haven’t I? And my word is good!”

“Of course, of course it is, it’s just…you’ve been avoiding me. I thought you were afraid of me,” he finished softly.

Arthur sighed. “I’ve been the target of magical attack more times than I can count. Seeing you use magic like that, out of nowhere, without even _thinking_ about it…well, yes, I was afraid. I even considered telling my father.”

At Merlin’s stricken look he continued. “But you’re my friend, Merlin, and I didn’t want to do anything I’d regret later, so I spent some time thinking about it, without you around to distract me. If it hadn’t been for you, I’d be dead a dozen times over. And I’m assuming you used magic at least some of those times.”

“Yes.”

“Show me what you can do?”

Merlin was taken aback. “What?”

“I don’t know anything about magic, really, except that it’s tried to kill me.”

“You want me to show you my magic?” he asked, incredulously.

Arthur nodded.

“You’ve already seen some of it. Or the effects of it, at least.”

“I have? When?”

“You remember when Gwen’s father was ill?”

“You said you healed him with magic. I didn’t believe you.”

Merlin nodded.

“You were willing to sacrifice yourself for her.”

“No. I wasn’t willing to let her die for something I’d done. And there was that time in Ealdor…”

Arthur’s eyes widened in realisation. “Your friend wasn’t the sorcerer. You were.”

“He covered for me.”

“What else can you do?”

“Lots of things. The first thing I learned was how to move objects.”

“Like you did with that man.”

“That was a person—it’s slightly different. I don’t need an incantation to move objects.” He held out a hand and Arthur’s goblet flew into it.

The look of dumbfounded surprise on Arthur’s face was gratifying.

“I’m still learning. Gaius knows a little bit about magic, but he doesn’t like my using it.”

Arthur nodded. “You know better than me what’ll happen if you’re caught, so I won’t tell you not to do anything stupid.”

Merlin grinned. “That’d be impossible anyway.”

Arthur laughed, then abruptly sobered. “Just…be careful, Merlin. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

The moment between them was shattered when he continued. “After all, then I’d have to get myself another servant.”


End file.
